A Mean Sleep
by T. Costa
Summary: How could the clouds tease us into thinkin' it might rain? How could the need deceive us into thinkin' things might change? Theirs was a relationship based on need...the need to keep the nightmares at bay. Yuffentine, T for language.


**A Mean Sleep**

_You could burn a thousand days  
And I would need no other light  
You could die a thousand ways  
And I'd still love you back to life_

_But my need's rising angry  
And the loneliness like quicksand  
Who will find me under this mean sleep?_

-- Cree Summer, _Mean Sleep_

It had started as comfort.

The night Aeris died had been a horrible, cold, damp one. No one had eaten dinner, and everyone had simply stared into the fire, poking at the remains of the surely delicious, but now cold, stew that Tifa had carefully prepared. No doubt it was seasoned with tears.

Yuffie sat away from the group; her little stunt with the materia the week prior had made her an outcast, and she didn't feel right intruding on the tight-knit band's shared grief. So she had to do her grieving alone.

That was truly the worst sort of grieving. Luckily, Yuffie Kisaragi was used to crying alone. She'd done it when her mother died, and when the war was lost, and when she'd come home and found Wutai a shadow of it's former self. She was used to it.

She sighed and looked at the group; it always happened, when she was dealing with this sort of thing, that she was forced to the side, either by necessity or her own stubbornness and warped sense of morality. She brought her knees closer to her body and leaned down onto them, letting the tears leak slowly down her face.

Beautiful, kind Aeris, who had trusted her even after she'd stolen the group's materia. After she'd stolen from the only friends she had.

She named them off to herself, looking at them from the corner of her eye. Barret, who was a big scary looking miner-type but really a gigantic teddy bear underneath it all – especially where his adoptive daughter, Marlene was concerned. Tifa, the busty, kind bartender from the slums that Yuffie had come to regard as the mother-figure she'd never had, despite the fact that there was only five years in age difference between the two. Cloud, their handsome and stoic, but obviously confused and messed-up, leader. Nanaki, the wise creature from Cosmo Canyon who was, for once, at a loss for words at the death of the flower girl. Cid, the smoke-roughened pilot who hadn't even had an expletive to utter as he unashamedly wept over Aeris, and who was a father to Yuffie even if he didn't know it. Even Cait Sith looked depressed, and he was a Shinra spy and mechanical to boot. Apparently whoever controlled him had a sense of humanity, despite their Shinra overlords.

Just as Yuffie realized that a person was missing, she heard him behind her. A snapped twig was all it took, and years of ninja training kicked in, making her sit stock-still and try to peer out of the corner of her eye, despite the fact that she knew exactly who it was.

"Relax, Yuffie. It's just me." Vincent said. He sounded...tired. Even he, who displayed less emotion than Cait Sith or her cell phone, had been upset at Aeris's broken body. She heard him muttering that he'd avenge her before he stalked away from her body.

She had a feeling he'd add this to his list of sins to atone for, which was so Goddamn boring but for some reason she felt an irrational urge to do the same.

Let's see. Steal from her only friends? Check.

Let Wutai become a piece of crap? Check.

Fail to protect sweet, kind Aeris? Double fucking check. The fact that Yuffie was currently no match for the former SOLDIER general didn't matter. In her mind, she ought to have been able to do more, and she was fairly certain everyone in the group felt the same way. It was a death that ought not have happened.

"Who's gonna be next, you think?" She asked Vincent, softly. It was a thought that had been plaguing her, and she was fairly certain that Vincent was morbid enough to not chide her on her way of thinking. After all, he was calm, cool, and analytical, and their quest was bound to end in casualties.

He sat beside her. "Statistics say that it would be either you or Tifa." He said, his voice a whisper in the darkness. "However, my money would be on Cait Sith."

She looked at him with a question written on her face. It made her feel a little bit better, that he thought she wasn't going to be the next one to die.

"Of course, he'd just come back. But he'll be the next to go." Vincent gazed out at the group and she felt that he, perhaps, knew exactly what it was like to mourn in silence, as she had for all these years. Vincent was definitely one guy who could understand what she was going through.

"How do you think he'll go?" She asked. She wondered if whoever was controlling him felt the robot's pain, and then figured that Shinra probably hadn't built pain receptors into the tiny cat body.

Vincent shrugged. A humorless smile quirked his lips. "Perhaps Cid will do the honors." He sighed and tossed a pebble out in front of him.

Yuffie snorted and closed her eyes, leaning back into the tree. Vincent was a few inches away from her, and in any normal time she'd be exulted to be so near him. But the fact that the most innocent and pure person she'd ever met had...been horribly murdered...not five hours previously, before her very eyes...well, it didn't cheer her up at all.

She'd have nightmares tonight. She knew it the moment the flower girl's slight frame had been pierced by the sword – the same sword that had killed Yuffie's mother. She'd had flashbacks, then, and had cried out in horror.

Other people had cool war flashbacks; Vincent probably had flashbacks of Hojo and Chaos. She had flashbacks of witnessing her mother's death fourteen years ago.

At least if she were a Wutai War vet, she could wear fatigues with the arms ripped off and walk around talking about "The Man" and receiving radio signals through her braces. She snorted through her tears. Now, she was just one fucked up little kid who tried too hard to seem cheerful to the group.

This wasn't the first time she'd been terrified, and it wouldn't be the last.

"I'm scared." She admitted. She figured Vincent was the one person who wouldn't taunt her for being a child for revealing her fear at their quest. "I'm scared I'm going to lose all of my friends, or that I'm going to be next."

Vincent was very quiet for a few minutes before responding. "I don't think that a single person here isn't, Yuffie." He sounded exhausted, mortally tired, and very un-Vincentlike. Vincent never tired. "But living in that fear...will not accomplish anything, and it will not lead to a good life."

"I know." She said, letting the tears fall. She began to blubber, and she kicked herself for being such an idiot fucking _baby_, especially around Vincent. "B-b-but what if it's Tifa next? Or Cid? Or you? I can't handle losing them all..." She sniffed and buried her face into her hands.

To her surprise, she felt one of Vincent's arms encircle her shoulders and he sighed. He didn't have any miracle solution to her problem, she knew, and she knew that even if he did he probably wouldn't let loose with it. But he was there, and that was what mattered.

**- - - - - **

Later, when everyone turned in to bed, she stayed awake, stubbornly staring into the fire from her spot. Vincent stood and held his hand out to help her up.

"I'm not going to bed." She said. A look of surprise, and then a vague concern, flew across his usually immobile face.

"You need rest, Yuffie. This has been a trying day." His crimson eyes appealed to her as best as they could.

"I'm not going." She said, aware that she sounded like a little kid. "I'll just have bad dreams and wake up screaming like an idiot anyway. I'll take first watch."

"There is no watch tonight." Vincent said, reasonable as always.

"No."

Vincent sighed and then sat back beside her. "Very well. I will take the first watch with you." He withdrew his gun and set it on the ground next to him, in easy reach.

She gave him a watery smile of thanks and the two of them resumed watching over the campsite.

That Vincent knew very well of the power nightmares could hold over you was not lost on Yuffie, and she was immensely grateful of his implicit understanding that she was afraid of sleep and what her dreams would bring her. He let his arm encircle her shoulders once again and this time, she leaned into him, crying once more.

She did fall asleep, of course, and when she awoke in terror he was awake in an instant, calming her with his mere presence and a vague pressure to the back of her head with his gun hand. After one particularly bad dream, in which Sephiroth beheaded every member of AVALANCHE, including the stoic Vincent, and then came after her, he even held her in both his arms, murmuring to her that it was alright – like her parents might have in an earlier time.

It was distinctly unlike Vincent, but she figured he saw a bit of himself in her fear of nightmares, and she was willing to take the help if it was offered.

Before she sank into a thankfully dreamless sleep, finally, she had a thought: had Vincent ever had someone to comfort him in his nightmares?

**- - - - - **

He tossed in his sleep. He couldn't help it.

His body, toned from years of training within the Turks and then the implants Hojo had surgically attached to his innards, was covered in sweat. His eyes twitched and his muscles flexed, and he made a sound that normally would never have come out of him in the daylight.

A whimper.

Because Vincent Valentine was not a whimperer. He wasn't much of a noise-maker in general, especially not such a weak noise. But when he let loose with his defenses and sank into sleep, his subconscious took control. And it whimpered quite a bit.

A soft touch on his bare shoulder awoke him. Vincent snarled and found himself looking up into the startled gray eyes of one Yuffie Kisaragi.

He calmed down and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. "Yuffie." He said. "What are you doing?"

"It's your turn for watch." She whispered. "But you sounded horrible, I could hear you from all the way over by my tent."

She gestured silently.

It had been over a week; neither of them had mentioned the night of comfort he'd given her, and neither seemed any closer to discussing it. She was...simply waking him up for watch.

He nodded his thanks to her and sat. She scampered out of his tent and he stared after her for a few moments, then glanced down at his chrono.

Just as he thought, it was a full twenty minutes before his watch was due to start. Yuffie was many things, but she was not lazy – she never woke anyone early for their watch, and she never skimped on any of her assigned duties or chores.

He must have been making a terrible racket.

He sighed and struggled into his shirt and cloak. He'd never get back to sleep now.

With a last glance at his tent to make sure everything was in order, he exited and went to sit around the fire with his gun.

Yuffie didn't immediately turn in, not even when her designated watch was over. She continued staring at the fire and holding her legs to herself – they were on the northern continent and it was cold, and no doubt her scanty coverings were not giving her any protection whatsoever.

"You can go to sleep." Vincent said.

She shook her head and bit her lip, not taking her eyes off the fire. "No, thanks." She said. The dead way she said it made him realize she was still having nightmares, probably just as disturbing as the ones that normally plagued him.

Yuffie was many things – she was an irrepressible thief and sometimes a downright annoyance, hyperactive and overexuberant when the situation didn't call for it. He had no doubt in his mind that it was mostly a facade to keep the rest of the group together; Yuffie was a natural-born class clown and he knew she didn't let anyone else know that something was bothering her.

Yuffie was not, however, as Cid and Barret constantly accused her of being, immature. Her worries were the same worries that he knew plagued his compatriots – which funeral would they be attending next? Would it be their own? Hell, if he was being honest with himself, they were the same worries that plagued him. He didn't have nightmares about it – his nightmares were an entirely different sort – but visions of various members of the group, impaled with Sephiroth's sword, had danced before his eyes. He saw each one clearly, as if it were real – especially Yuffie's, because it would be so depressing to come true.

"Still having bad dreams?" His voice was quiet, and it was the first mention of it either of them had made. She nodded in answer to his question. Yuffie's gray eyes were haunted, and rimmed with red – she'd been crying during her watch.

Vincent gave her a sad smile. "You can rest, Yuffie." He cocked his gun and his eyebrow at her, and she giggled at the implication – that Vincent would chase away the bad guys. She shot him a grateful smile – and climbed toward her tent.

She didn't say anything when Vincent climbed in with her after his watch was over. She still hadn't been able to fall asleep, and she knew that he was aware of that fact. He tucked his cloak about her – it smelled like him, and that lulled her to rest.

**- - - - - **

Of course, everyone thought they were sleeping with each other. And they were – but that was it. Just sleeping. Vincent didn't bother trying to correct their assumption that he and the ninja had paired off, because for all intents and purposes they had. He was a comfort to her in her nighttime horrors, and as odd as it sounded – she to him.

It was not a romantic relationship, but it was a relationship based entirely on need. They understood each other, and that was that.

The first time she woke him from a nightmare, he felt, for the first time, the comfort that came from having someone there to soothe you back to sleep. She murmured assurances to him and let her hand linger on his wet-slicked cheek, and held him to her. He let his eyes close and was soon quiet.

It became such a habit for them that in the odd chance that they didn't stay in the same tent or room, both invariably awoke drenched in sweat. They began to seek each other out every night, to find surcease; the daytimes were fine, but when the dark shadows of the night began to creep in, they both wanted the comfort that the other brought.

Even when Cloud told the others to leave, to find their reason. Vincent had already achieved his reason, of course – his original reason, Hojo dead, Lucrecia avenged, had already been accomplished. Now, however, he found that he had a new reason.

He wanted Yuffie's nightmares to go away. But at the same time, or rather, when she held him at night as tremors crept through his scarred body, he worried about what would happen if those nightmares did go away. She wouldn't need him, would she? And his nightmares would return, and he'd suffer through them alone.

He'd done it before, and he could do it again.

Unbidden, he followed her to the Forgotten City, which is where she went to find her reason. She seemed glad to have him around.

She stopped at the pool where Cloud had left Aeris' body. "That's my reason." She said, quietly. "So that it never happens again." She turned to him and cried, and he, as he had so many times before, wrapped his arms around her and let her.

**- - - - - **

"You know, I've seen them at night." Tifa told Cloud as they looked up at the Highwind. "Yuffie and Vincent."

He looked at her and let loose with a wry smile. "I didn't realize you were a voyeur, Tifa."

She shook her head. "They've never done that. Ever." She shivered. "I think...they're kind of using each other as a security blanket. They have nightmares, Cloud – really bad ones. And every time, the other one wakes them up and comforts them." She sighed. "Must be nice."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "I can't promise that, Tifa. But I'll try." He leaned into her and looked up. "Time to go."

**- - - - - **

_He could see her. She was on a funeral pyre in Wutai, dressed in white. Her pale, corpselike hands held a single white rose. Someone uttered the incantation and fire was cast, and her beautiful body went up in flames._

_As the clothes singed off, he could see one thing marring her skin – a downward slash on her abdomen, made from a sword. He closed his eyes and roared in pain._

"Vincent!" The voice called out to him, urgently. His eyes snapped open. It was Yuffie, and they were in their compartment in the Highwind. It was the day everyone was going to arrive. She looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

She'd never asked that before, and he wondered what he'd been doing to make her so alarmed.

As if to answer his question, she smoothed his hair back and shook her head. "You were screaming, Vincent. Whatever you were dreaming must have been bad." She smiled and lay next to him, holding him.

He blinked. "It was." He whispered. He'd never had one like it, and he had no idea why it terrified him so. "I was at a funeral."

She murmured assurances and snuggled up to him. "It's fine, Vincent. Go back to sleep."

He closed his eyes. "I can't. I won't be able to." He shook his head and sat up. "Don't let my nightmare keep you awake, Yuffie. Go back to sleep. I'll be here if you need me."

She looked up at him with wide eyes – normally, a single touch from her calmed him. But this time, it wouldn't, because he'd seen her, dead, and it stuck in his mind's eye. He knew how much the young ninja meant to him, had known for a long while, and the idea of losing her terrified him.

"Who's funeral?" She asked, scared of the answer. It was another first for them. They never asked questions about the nightmares.

He closed his eyes in pain.

"It's alright, Vincent. You don't have to answer." Her hand was curled trustingly in his, and she closed her eyes.

Only after she was asleep did he lay back down, facing her. He brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"You cannot die, Yuffie Kisaragi." He whispered. A small lump had formed in his throat. "Please..."

He finally drifted off to sleep.

**- - - - - **

The night that they beat Sephiroth, everyone, of course, was celebrating.

Yuffie was dancing around, her normal boisterous self – only this time Vincent knew that she was genuinely happy. No more nightmares would be troubling her.

Vincent couldn't bring himself to be as happy. He knew that that night he would sleep alone, and his nightmares would return, only this time he wouldn't have the comfort of knowing that Yuffie would smooth them away with caresses and hushed whispers and soothing words.

It hurt. The knowing.

No one noticed that he'd slipped out of the party, and upstairs to his rented room. He sat on his bed, exhausted from the battle but unwilling to go to sleep. Instead, he watched the moon.

It was almost full.

He sighed. There was a knock at the door and he made a noise of assent for whoever it was to enter. He fully expected Cid or Tifa to be there, demanding that he come back downstairs and join the festivities; probably whoever it was would have a martini or a beer in hand.

He was wrong. It was Yuffie. It would figure that she would be the only one who noticed his absence.

He turned at the sound of her voice; she was in her pajamas, and she seemed almost shy.

He gave her a small smile, and then turned back toward the moon. She came and sat next to him on the bed.

"We all made it." She said. "Even me."

He glanced at her.

"No funeral pyre for yours truly." She smiled at his confusion. "I wasn't asleep. Sorry."

He shrugged. His face wanted to burn, but he was feeling pretty apathetic, even for him. He was exhausted and confused – confused by how deeply she had wormed her way into his heart these past few months. There was a saying that understanding leads to friendship, and friendship to love – and it he found himself wanting to curse whoever had spoken those words. Their mutual understanding had led to friendship, a very deep friendship. One that made them protect each other on the battlefield and cure each other's wounds and bandage each other up afterward, despite what everyone said.

And now, at least for him, friendship had turned into love. A love so deep it hurt to breathe when he thought about it. And it was also a love that confused him, because there was Lucrecia...and then there was Yuffie. Lucrecia had been anger and sharp edges and a love of science; Yuffie was peace and happiness and a love of life. They were nothing alike.

Specifically, they were close to 25 or 30 years apart in age, Yuffie and Lucrecia. That thought stuck out in his mind particularly.

He felt a shifting next to him and turned in time to see Yuffie lay down next to him on the bed. She smiled and snuggled up next to his upright form, her eyelashes fluttering closed and a peaceful sigh echoing through her body before her breath evened.

His eyes closed painfully. This, then, could be their very last night together. Surely tomorrow Yuffie would leave for Wutai, and leave him here. This could, in fact, be the last time he ever saw her.

He slowly, careful not to disturb her, stood and prepared for bed, and then he slipped under the covers with her, holding her as if she were the most precious thing in the world – because to him, she was.

**- - - - - **

Theirs had always been a relationship of need.

They needed each other for comfort, to ensure good dreams and a decent night's sleep. They needed each other in a way that neither was quite able to describe.

So when Yuffie awoke and saw the need in Vincent's eyes, she did what was only natural – gave in. After all, theirs was a relationship based entirely on need and the comfort being in each others' arms brought.

Afterward, they were a mass of sweaty limbs and half-asleep kisses, and they didn't stop to ponder the consequences of their actions. When they awoke naked, it was almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Yuffie opened her eyes and smiled, although she couldn't quite remember why. Then she did, and she glanced over at Vincent, who was completely asleep, his face lax in the morning sunlight. She giggled at the light snores issuing from him.

For the first time in months, neither of them had been awoken by a nightmare in the middle of the night.

All for the better, because they were soon faced with something of a more personal nightmare of their own.

**- - - - - **

They carefully avoided discussion of the night before at breakfast. In fact, they didn't say anything to each other, instead concentrating on food that wasn't the Shinra-issue rations Cid had aboard the Highwind. It was, literally, the first real food they'd had in weeks.

They had a private booth, toward the back of the restaurant. If they'd wanted to talk, they could have, because no one would have been able to hear them.

The door to the restaurant opened, and a person entered, blinking at the sudden dimness; a quiet contrast to the bright, beautiful, sunny, Meteor-free day outside.

He headed directly toward them. Vincent, always on the alert – a direct result of his years in the Turks – gripped the handle of his pistol under the table.

"Yuffie Kisaragi?" A young boy said. He wore a cap from a local delivery service and Vincent allowed himself to relax.

Yuffie looked up, politely.

"I have a letter for you." The boy bowed slightly and handed it to her. After she signed the chit acknowledging receipt, she opened it.

Vincent knew something was wrong immediately. Her rosy cheeks and olive complexion blanched; the blood literally drained out of her face.

"What's wrong?"

She looked into his eyes in terror. "I'm going to die."

**- - - - - **

_Yuffie;_

_I send you this letter to ask you to come home. No doubt you were up celebrating last night, as you should have been – Wutai is proud to have had you there to fight Sephiroth, and you should be proud of yourself as well. You deserved a night of celebration. But your country needs you now. It is time for you to come home, finish your training, and find a husband. I expect you home within the week._

_Kisaragi Godo_

**- - - - - **

Yuffie was on the bed, but this time she was crying and Vincent couldn't console her. She was gibbering about death and how her father was the most ungrateful, assholish person on the planet, and Vincent couldn't get a word in edgewise.

Finally he clapped his normal hand over her mouth. "Explain, Yuffie. Please." He instructed, slowly. He knew she was panicking and a panicked Yuffie was never a good Yuffie to have. He hoped his steady voice would calm her.

She pointed to the letter and read it aloud. Vincent frowned.

"So?"

"Vincent, you know, for someone who's so well-versed in worldly shit, you don't know squat about Wutain culture." She glared daggers at him. "This letter is a formal request from my father. I am to come home – and I am bound to, I can't just not do it – and finish my training. This means...that in a month, I am going to be married. I have to choose a husband by then, or my father will choose someone for me, and then I'll become Lady of Wutai."

Vincent felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. "So why does 'formal request from your father' become 'I am going to die?'" He asked.

She looked down at her hands for a few minutes, contemplative, and then looked up at him. "Wutain ladies, especially THE Lady, are pure until marriage – whoever I marry can make a complaint if they take me and...I'm not pure." She gulped. "The punishment for being an unpure, unmarried woman..is death."

**- - - - - **

Yuffie swore to herself. Of course it would fucking monsoon all the way to Wutai. The gold chocobo warked in agreement.

She blinked water out of her eyes and stared ahead. The gates of Wutai were getting larger by the minute, and with them, her unease and a sense of helplessness.

The guards let her in without question, of course. Everyone knew Yuffie, destined to be the Lady of Wutai, daughter of Godo, who was their leader and controlled the water god, Leviathan.

Of course, if there was a doubt in anyone's mind who she was, she could show them her body-heir (1) tattoo, but she'd rather not go that far. That tattoo was what had cursed her to death. If she were any other Wutain woman, she could simply leave – but the tattoo bound her to Godo, to Wutai.

Yuffie swallowed her doubt and fear. She had plenty of practice with AVALANCHE. She only wished that Vincent were here to help her like he had been.

They'd parted ways at Rocket Town; she resolutely insisted that he couldn't come. If she was found to be unpure, any male who had any acquaintance with her would be put to death as well, if they were on Wutain soil. She couldn't bear to see Vincent beheaded, which was the way men were put to death. Yuffie would suffer a slow death; she'd either be bludgeoned by rocks, or stabbed in the stomach.

It had been one thing to face Sephiroth, because then there had been a hope she'd get out alive. Now she was doomed. Her only hope was to be assigned a husband who was discreet and understanding.

She would be given a choice, of course, and if her father approved of her choice, allowed to marry whomever she chose. But the person she would have chosen was an ocean away. Godo would want her to choose from his personal choices, anyway – He had plans for her, and it probably involved a familial alliance.

Before she even went to her house and unpacked, she headed for Godo's home. All of her rebellion, in the past, had been because of this one moment, when she knew her freedom and will to live would die. She'd had to live an entire lifetime in her short sixteen years, to make up for the time she'd spend in womanhood. She suspected that it was the only reason Godo had never punished her with violence; he knew her fate, and he mourned just as she did.

It was not for the ruling class to love, or have pleasure. No, the ruling class served their people, and whatever was best for the people dictated what they did.

"You wished to see me, my lord?" She asked, falling to the floor and bowing, trying to keep the tears from falling.

"Ah, Yuffie." Godo said. He tapped her head lightly, letting her know that they could be father and daughter, and not lord and subject. It was an informal meeting.

"Why now?" She burst out. If he could hear the tears in her voice, he didn't give any indication.

Godo sighed. "Because, Yuffie. I am dying." He sat on the floor pillow next to her and shook his head, ignoring her shock. "I didn't have the heart to tell you, _oneechan_." Godo stopped and burst into an explosive bought of coughing. Yuffie inwardly screamed; he still used that childish nickname, and it was years past her coming of age ceremony.

Godo regained control of his diaphragm and sighed again, this time shakily. "It has been coming for a long time. The cancer has spread, Yuffie. I will die within the year." He shook his head. "I am sorry, my daughter, that this must be thrust upon you so young. But Wutai must have a leader."

She nodded, mutely.

"And before you can be a leader, you must have a husband."

She closed her eyes. How unfair was it that a woman must have a husband to be a leader, and yet a man could be unmarried and still take the throne?

"Are there any prospects in that field?" He asked her. "Surely in your travels you have met someone who interests you." His voice was kind; he knew how hard this was on her.

She shook her head. She was numb, she was ice. She could make it through this. She just hoped her father would survive his inevitable shame, of having an unpure daughter.

He sighed. "I hate to do this, Yuffie. But I have had several offers for your hand in marriage, and I think that, once you have rested from your travels, and washed, we should look over them. There is one in particular that might benefit Wutai a great deal. I will give you until noon tomorrow."

It was a dismissal if she ever heard one.

She kept her head proud and straight until she walked into her house. Then she dissolved into tears.

**- - - - - **

"Yuffie, I know you don't like this, but you're being deliberately obtuse. You must pick a man this week, or I will choose one for you!" Godo thundered. "You know I don't want to do that! I would rather have you happy, or at least with someone of your choice!"

Yuffie closed her eyes and fought back tears. It had been a month without Vincent, a month of nightmares, of waking up in a cold sweat, of helplessness. And she faced a lifetime of it.

A lifetime without Vincent. Hell, a lifetime might not be so long if she chose the wrong guy. Then it would all end in one bloody wound to her abdomen.

That option was starting to seem more and more desirable.

She heard a door slam and got up to lock it. She was tired of Godo barging in on her personal space; she'd tolerated it at first because he was dying, but now it was getting out of hand.

She was trying so hard. So hard to be a good daughter, a good future leader. But it was difficult. Every man her father presented to her had something wrong with him; somehow, he just wasn't as good as Vincent.

No one would ever be. She was setting her sights too high. There was no one in the world as good as Vincent Valentine.

She lay down on her bed and closed her eyes. Even nightmares were better than this.

**- - - - - **

Vincent stood beside the sick man's bed. He had a plan.

If his calculations were correct, Yuffie was due to choose a husband within the next few days; they would be wed a week later, and then she might possibly die. He had to act fast, and so much of it depended on the man laying next to him.

"I could see...where it...would be ad...ventagious..." The man gasped. Vincent smiled.

"So you'll keep the secret?" He urged. The man nodded.

Vincent's smile grew broader. "We have an accord, then." He held his hand out, ignoring the wounds on the man's body and how they smelled.

Yuffie might not be pleased with him, but he had to save her. If he didn't, more nightmares would come, and this time, they would be of Yuffie being martyred.

**- - - - - **

"Yuffie, the day has come." Godo said, striding into her room. She looked up at him and blinked.

"Have you chosen someone?" She asked, softly.

"I have several options available to me." Godo replied. It was the first time she'd responded to him. "So that's it, then? You're just going to let me choose?"

Yuffie nodded, folding her hands in front of her on her comforter. She looked down at them.

Godo sighed and handed her something.

"We've had some interesting negotiations lately, Yuffie. You would be key...in restoring Wutai."

Yuffie jerked her head up. "What?"

"Look at the contract." He urged her. "This is the outcome of so many hours of negotiations, Yuffie. All it needs is your approval."

"I don't need to give my approval to sign my life away." She said, softly. "You're free to choose whatever you want for me." Godo realized then that his daughter had really, truly given up. His shoulders slumped.

"Just look at the contract, Yuffie." Obediently, in a manner that was entirely un-Yuffielike, Yuffie bowed her head and read the contract.

Her eyes bulged. "Reparations?" She said, softly touching the contract with her other hand. "Wutai...would be whole again?"

Godo nodded. "I'm told the man they are pledging is very nice, although he has some sort of illness, or something. But it's not genetic. He would be kind to you, they said." He sighed.

Yuffie's mouth formed an O. "What is his name?"

Godo shrugged. "I don't know. That's not part of the contract, Yuffie, and besides, you know you can't meet him until the day before you're wed. Not if I choose for you."

She nodded, slowly. If this man was nice...if he was kind, like they said...

She might not be happy, but Wutai would breathe again. She could give up happiness for that...she would take the nightmares for Wutai to be whole.

"...I'll do it." She whispered. "...if you want me to."

Godo knelt before his daughter. "I don't like forcing you into things, _oneechan_. I wish you had found someone you could be with who made you happy." He frowned and closed his eyes in pain. "Damn this cancer. It has spread like wildfire, and because of it you must be miserable for your entire adult life." He took her hand in his. "Know, Yuffie, that if this man doesn't treat you kindly, I will haunt him in the afterlife." He stood and took the contract, staring at it a few seconds more before handing it back to her to sign.

The ink and wax took care of it in seconds, and Godo signed his name and sign, too.

"Next Tuesday, then." He said, looking back over his shoulder at her as he exited her room. "That's when you can meet him."

"I'm looking forward to it." Yuffie said, softly. She wondered who in the Shinra organization had pledged themselves to her to bring this contract to light. Reeve? She snorted. Rude seemed like he was nice. Or maybe it was Rufus Shinra himself – she'd heard he was sickly as of late. But the materia and money they would be getting would be more than enough to restore Wutai to it's former glory, and a peace contract besides. It was what she'd been dreaming of her entire life.

Except that now she wanted Vincent to be there to see it happen, and she knew that could never be. If she saw him, she'd need him, and he'd come to her like he always had, and she'd die for it. And so would he.

She closed her eyes in pain. At least some good would come out of this torment.

**- - - - - **

Yuffie adjusted the traditional white kimono on her frame. It was the day she was to meet her suitor – her future husband. If she was lucky they'd be able to be friends.

She sighed. Nothing could bring her out of this funk. Wasn't a bride supposed to be happy on her wedding day? She couldn't bring herself to even be excited, or nervous. She hadn't told anyone in AVALANCHE what was happening – they'd no doubt find out through the newspapers that Yuffie Kisaragi had gotten married.

She wondered if they'd be too terribly angry with her for keeping her silence.

For the first time in a long time, she missed Aeris. More than anything, she wanted a hug from the kind flower girl; she knew that Aeris would have been able to make it all better.

But Aeris was dead – just like her hopes, her dreams. Well, one dream was very much alive, and at least then something could be accomplished.

But no matter how much she tried to justify it, the restoration of Wutai just couldn't make her feel happy about this union.

She trudged after the women who led her to the chamber in the temple. She felt like she was being led to a funeral. Possibly, her funeral.

Finally, some nervousness. She gulped and her handmaidens took this as a sign of excitement and smiled at her. She gave a wisp of a smile back.

She entered an empty room. The women gestured for her to take her place at the center, kneeling; always, women of Wutai bowed. They were oh-so-subservient. She ground her teeth and sighed, trudging to the rug and kneeling on it, bowing her head as if in prayer.

They left. It seemed like an eternity that she was alone in that room, thinking about her impending marriage. Of course, that was the point, the bride was supposed to think about it, but Yuffie doubted she was supposed to be thinking the things she was thinking. Out of the corner of her eye she spied a ceremonial sword on the wall, and considered committing _jigai (3)_ as an act of rebellion. But she couldn't; the tattoo that was forever burned into her skin bound her to this room, more surely than any chains ever would.

The door opened and she cringed, her heart speeding up. Steps came toward her.

This was it. A hand touched her shoulder, and she couldn't bring herself to turn, to look the man in the eyes; no matter who it was, it would never be...

"...Still having bad dreams?" His voice was soft, and she turned, disbelieving. Gray eyes affixed themselves to crimson ones, and she gasped.

"V-Vincent?" She whispered, wondering if this really was a dream; wondering if this was some sort of hallucination her brain had dreamed up to make her feel better about her fate.

He smirked. She knew it was real, then, because even in her dreams, she couldn't come up with a smirk as real as that. She let out a cry and dove into his arms.

That familiar feel of him wrapping them around her; of feeling secure and safe. The smell of gunpowder and sweat that was undeniably Vincent Valentine. His hand curling around the base of her neck, playing with the sensitive hair follicles there and making goosebumps rise all over her body.

They stood like that, silent, for a long while, enjoying being in each other's presence after such a long time.

Yuffie could have stood there forever, just holding him, safe in the knowledge that she would never have to suffer through another nightmare alone again.

"This...is the best that I could do." Vincent murmured against her hair.

She looked at him, questioning.

"If you have a husband...who will be silent...who doesn't care..." He found himself stumbling now that her eyes were on him.

Her face fell slightly, but she was still smiling. "Still protecting me, Vincent?"

He swallowed and looked toward the ceiling, which made it easier to talk. "I wish more than anything, Yuffie, that you had not been put into this position. I wish that you could have...had a courtship and a proposal and a marriage to someone you love. But at least you will live." He sighed and looked back at her. Her face had taken on an incredulous look.

"Are you kidding?" She blinked. "You're kidding, right?" She laughed, her first happy, tinkling laugh in over a month. It sent shivers down Vincent's spine.

"Vincent, five minutes ago I thought I was getting married to a random Shinra goon. I thought I was going to have to spend a lifetime away from you because every time I set eyes on you, I melt into a puddle. You have made my millennium." She looked up to him and if it was possible, her smile widened. "Vincent...I went from a lifetime of misery...to a lifetime...with you. My best friend."

Vincent's eyes widened.

She sighed and lay her head against his chest. "When my dad was trotting all of those suitors around me, Vincent, I kept comparing them to you. And none of them measured up. None of them would have been able to keep the nightmares away."

Vincent closed his eyes and put his arms back around her. Yuffie could hear his heart speed up in his chest, and she knew what she'd said had touched him.

"Yuffie..." He whispered. He pulled her away from him again and took her face in his hands; his cool claw was almost a comfort to her at this point; she'd missed it.

She looked at him and he closed his eyes. He wanted to find the person who had defined the Wutain version of "pure" and hit them, because Yuffie, while no longer a virgin – thanks to him, which he still cursed himself for – was most definitely pure. She was the purest thing he'd ever seen; ever been blessed to be in the same room with.

"I..." He shifted. "I have to confess something."

She blinked. There was no accusation in those gray eyes, just inquiry. He was so unused to people looking at him like that; with trust, complete and utter trust. Yuffie knew she could trust herself with him. A small lump lodged in his throat and he cleared it.

"I did not only come here to save you." He said. He closed his eyes. "I suppose it was selfish of me – any of Rufus' people could have done it, and kept the secret well. But..."

"I love you." Yuffie interrupted him. His eyes shot open and his gaze darted toward her face. She was staring up at him and smiling. "I'm sorry. I really do." She hugged him again. "I'm just so happy you're here, Vincent. I love you and I promise I won't make everything all awkward between us. I just...this past year...every time I saw myself getting married, I always saw you standing next to me. I always wanted you, Vincent. I know...it's not...you know. But I'm getting it, and..."

Vincent's heart throbbed painfully. "You...love..."

"You." She smiled. "Vincent Valentine, gunslinger extraordinare. Yes."

Vincent's drew a ragged breath, and he jerked her face upward toward him and pressed a fierce, fiery kiss to her lips. It brought both of them to their knees. Yuffie's hands went stiff in shock and then her fingers wound their way into Vincent's tangled locks.

Both of them were at loathe to break the kiss, but they needed to breathe, and so they did, slowly. And Yuffie stared up into his face unabashedly, memorizing it even though she'd done the same thing thousands of times before.

Only this time, she could tell Vincent was doing the same thing to her. His crimson eyes took in every curve of her face, every hair askew on her head; the tilt of her jaw, the crinkle around her eyes.

She felt her heart stop.

"I don't know what I did to deserve you." Vincent said, bringing his human hand to her cheek. "But whatever it was, I doubt it was enough." (4) He brought her face closer to his and pressed a kiss onto her forehead, and stayed there, talking into her hair as he held onto her head. "I can't thank you enough, Yuffie."

"For what?" She asked. For some reason she was unable to explain, tears were leaking down her face, blurring her careful makeup.

"For existing." Another kiss. "I love you, Yuffie Kisaragi. And I think that if Aeris were here, she would be happy that her death resulted in something so beautiful." His arms went around her shoulders and he held her while she cried; they were tears of joy, but they were hysterical tears, because when someone doesn't think their dreams will come true, it is almost painful when they do.

**- - - - - **

"CLOUD!"

Cloud sat upright. Tifa sounded alarmed.

"What?" He asked, standing and going to the base of the stairs.

"Get dressed! Something nice! We have to go! Cid is on his way!" She said, scurrying downstairs. She was half-dressed; a nice skirt and heels, and a bra – Victoria's Secret, if he knew his bras – flew past him as she ran to the other end of the bar to grab her purse. Cloud blinked, and took the sights in, as it were.

"What?" He asked, intelligently.

"We have to go! We're going to be late! God, I wish we'd had more notice!" She fished her teardrop earrings out of the purse and affixed them. "Come on, Cloud!"

"What's going on?"

"Oh, shit!" She set the purse down. "I got so excited after Vincent called me that I forgot to tell you. He called about thirty minutes ago. Get dressed in something nice!"

"Tell me what, Tifa?" Cloud was getting frantic.

"Yuffie and Vincent! They're getting married and we HAVE. TO. BE. THERE." She glared daggers. "Where the hell is my necklace?"

"Maybe you'll want to put a shirt on first?" Cloud suggested. He was already heading toward the stairs.

"Ah!" Tifa covered herself. "Cloud, you pervert!"

He chuckled and went up the stairs. "Just be glad Reeve wasn't here, Tifa." He whistled happily. It looked to be a good day – he got to see Tifa in a bra, and Yuffie and Vincent were getting married. Not like anyone had seen _that _coming. He rolled his eyes, and then stopped.

"Hey, Tifa?" He called down the stairs.

"What?" She said, coming to the foot and heading up, presumably to get her shirt.

"Why the short notice?" He cocked his head.

She giggled. "It's actually kind of romantic, but I'll tell you on the way. We have to HURRY, Cid is gonna be here in fifteen minutes!"

Cloud eyed her and then went into his room. Fifteen minutes was plenty of time for him.

**- - - - - **

"Oh my God, look!" Tifa said, pointing. "Here they come!"

"It's just Yuffie and Godo, Tifa." Cloud said, patiently.

"Shut up!" Tifa said, clapping a hand over his mouth without taking her eyes of off Yuffie.

Godo was smiling. Of course he would be. His daughter was getting married, and in a month's time she'd take her oath as Lady of Wutai. And not only that, but this man had made her incredibly happy, and that made him happy – to have his smiling, cheerful Yuffie back. His _oneechan_.

When they got to Vincent, Godo gave him his sword, bowing slightly. Vincent cocked an eyebrow.

"It is your job to protect her now, Vincent Valentine." Godo said. "You'll have quite a job on your hands."

"Damn straight." Yuffie whispered, winking.

Vincent smiled.

Theirs had always been a relationship based on need. That was at the very core, for Vincent and Yuffie were both selfish people, in their own way. It was obvious, in the way they devoured each other with their eyes as they looked at each other; in the way they held hands, like they were holding on to a life preserver. Their kiss was almost like a release, and with it the onlookers let out a sigh none of them knew they'd been holding.

There is a saying that understanding leads to friendship, and friendship to love. Vincent smiled as he released Yuffie from their kiss, and blessed whoever had said those words. They couldn't be truer.

_Author's Notes: (1) I stole the idea of body-heirs and tattoos from Anne McCaffrey's "Coelura." It's a fascinating concept. (2) Oneechan basically means "little sister," directly translated, but it's an acceptable nickname to give to any young child you meet, including ones you don't know. And it's a hell of a lot cooler than MY childhood nickname (which my parents still use – no, I'm not telling what it is). (3) Jigai is the female form of seppuku, or hari-kiri (ritualistic suicide). (4) XKCD tribute!_

_Also, someone has stated that oneechan means big sister. This is wrong. OneeCHAN means little sister - oneeSAN means big sister. :) Just to clear up the confusion (I've been looking into this kind of stuff - I'm going to be going to college to learn Japanese so I can become a translater). _

_I started writing this on a whim because I was struck by an idea, and then I found similar stories up on fanfiction dot net. D'oh!_

_Anyway, the story behind the story._

_My husband is a recovering drug addict and a former Army Ranger. His nightmares are probably just as bad as Vincent's – and they're violent. He'll thrash around and moan and it's generally very scary for him. I always wake him and calm him down when this happens, and he never talks about the nightmares. I don't think I want to know._

_So after a particularly bad bout of them, for some reason I drew the connection to Vincent and his nightmares, and I imagined how much better off he'd be with someone to calm him down from them. My brain supplied "Yuffie" for that someone, and voîla! Instafic. I wrote most of it without sleep, and then I took a nap and went to work and all I thought about at work was this damn fic. It drained me, but it was fun, and for once, I actually LIKE how a fic of mine came out. A pretty smart man once said that a writer is never happy with what he has written, and I think he was right. But this time, I think I am._

_And a side note: The title song of this story, Mean Sleep, is a duet between the talented vocalist Cree Summer, and Lenny Kravitz. I highly suggest it._

_Read? Review!_


End file.
